Do Not Open Before Christmas
by Meray
Summary: Peytone and her best friend Megan find the other halves on their hearts in interesting ways. While Megan meets Fall Out Boy's Pete Wentz when she wrecks her car, Peytone rekindles her love with Panic! At the Disco's Brendon Urie.
1. Chapter 1

MEGAN'S P.O.V

"Fuck! Shit! Its like putting a watermelon through a pinhole!" I screamed obscenities from the window of my shitty car. Fucking shitty car, why does everything always have to go wrong in my life? Why, why me? Once again, I am getting kicked out of my house. Actually, I stormed out of my house. Same difference. My mother, Madria the Witch, won't fucking let me go to the All Time Low concert. She doesn't understand that Alex Gaskarth = LOVE. She doesn't understand me. No one does. Except for my BFFL Peytone. She understands me for the most part.

I sped off down the street, my tires screeching and my car almost hydroplaning. The booming thunder and the pouring rain reflected my mood at the moment. Where am I driving to? I don't know. Somewhere, anywhere where I could drown in a pool of self misery. Fuck. Shit.

3...2...1...CRY.

Only one thing could calm my nerves. I began to blast Fall Out Boy, a band with such magnificent amounts of inspiration and truth that I had put my entire heart into listening to their music and stalking the band members. "Our Lawyer Made Us Change The Name of This Song So We Wouldn't Get Sued" was the first song that erupted from my car's CD player. I sang along loudly, "The ribbon on my wrist says do not open before Christmas!" Christmas, was in fact, in a few days.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket at the first red light. The phone rang a few times before Peytone picked up.

"Hey man, are you okay? I haven't talked to you in five minutes," Peytone said.

"Okay? OKAY? I am not okay. I can't go to the concert with you, Cori, Kayleigh, and Jessi on Thursday," I screamed into the phone.

"Dude, that's gay," She said, "Why can't you go?"

"It's a fucking school night," I grumbled. "Mommy doesn't like it when I stay out on school nights."

"Megan, you are a junior in college now. You can make your own decisions," Peytone said, reassuringly.

"God, I'm so fucking mad I could just..." At that moment, I turned my wheel sharply to the left, trying to make a turn. I lost control of my car and it skidded straight into the curb.

"Fuck! How could this night get any worse?" I shouted. "Peytone, I have to call you back."

I sat back in the seat for a moment, making sure I hadn't gotten any injuries. I unbuckled my seat belt, and I got out of my car to inspect the damage. _Any flat tires? Bent axles? Busted headlights? _I circled my car a few times. _Nope. _

"What a relief, " I said to myself. Just then, I saw it. A scratch. In my car. Really? A fucking scratch!

"My life sucks so much!" I started to cry. That was the only thing I could do...

"You okay?" A strange voice said from behind me. I turned around quickly, startled by this stranger's voice. He was short, like an inch shorter than me. His hood was up, and I couldn't see his face. He had a muscular body, but that didn't take away from the sketchiness of the situation.

"Just...a fender bender, I guess," I sniffled. "I'm fine, thanks." I began to open my car door, I need to get out of here before this stranger tries to kidnap me and sell me for crack!

"Well, regardless of the severity of your car accident," The strange man said, pulling the hood off of his head to reveal his face. "Long live the car crash hearts."

Oh. My. God. The black hair, gently swooped over his eyes. The thick lips. It was none other than Pete Wentz. I tried to open my mouth to say something, but all that escaped was a small squeak.

"I can't believe it. I can't-I can't believe its you!" I stuttered.

"The best part of believe is the lie," He said calmly.

"I don't understand. Are you Pete Wentz, or not?" I asked.

"No. I really am." He told me.

"Well, what are you doing here in Chicago?"

"I used to live here, duh. I'm staying at my parents' house right now. Their house is right there," He pointed to a nice, suburban home across the street. "You are on my street."

"You mean...this is Forest Avenue?" I said, shocked.

"Uh, yeah. Anyway, you sure you're okay? You were crying just a second ago."

Now I was embarrassed. Pete Wentz had seen me sobbing and cursing the world. What did he think of me? I quickly made up a lie.

"My car has a scratch now."

"I'm sorry about that. Will a cup of coffee fix it?"

"The scratch in my car?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure."

"It won't fix that..."

"But it can fix your sadness. I sing the blues and swallow them too."

I tried to suppress a giggle, but I couldn't control it. He did have a way with words.

"So? Coffee?" He asked again.

"Well, not right now. I kinda need to get going. I'm standing out here in the cold," I explained to him.

"Well, we don't have to drink the coffee outside. How about this: I'll give you my number, and you can call when you're available. Here, I'll put you're number in my phone." He held out his hand. I nervously placed the phone in his open palm. He quickly entered his name and number and handed the phone back to me.

"Now you can't tell me that you lost it," he said, winking at me. I wanted to melt.

"See you soon," He turned and walked back to his house.

I frolicked into my car, squealing with excitement. I started up the car and sped off again. I had to tell someone about this! Peytone would be all ears.

PEYTONE'S P.O.V.

I was in my room, on my computer, looking through his Myspace. He was my best friend, but he went away; I haven't seen him since. He completely ditched me when he became famous. I was in such anguish, that I wanted to scream his name like all of the other little fangirls did.

"BWENDON!" I squealed. I couldn't help myself.

I reminisced on the times we had. Like that one time where we went to that Vegan place to get vegan food. And then I threw up some. I had sacrificed a hearty carnivorous meal for a pile of leaves. That is how much I cared for and loved him.

I heard the door to my apartment open. It was probably Megan. Megan had no idea about my past relationship with the insanely famous Brendon Urie, and I didn't want to let her know now. I would look like such a fool! I wiped my eyes and shut my laptop as the room to my door burst open.

"O! M!G!" Megan squealed, just as I had squealed Brendon's name, "Guess what just happened to me!"

"What?" I asked, hoping that her story would get my mind off of sweet Bwen Bwen.

"I got in a car wreck!"

"Wait... is this good news? You sound really happy about it," I responded in confusion.

"Yeah, because guess who's street I crashed on!"

I paused, waiting for her to finish.

"PETER LEWIS KINGSTON WENTZ THE THIRD'S!"

"No way! That is so cool! Did you talk to him?" I inquired.

"No."

"Awe, that suc-"

"**He** talked to **me**! And he invited me for coffee, but I made some excuse because I was too nervous. And he gave me his number and put it in my phone! And look!" she said, scrolling through her contacts in her phone, "All seven digits are there!"

"Wow, Megan! All seven? That's the first number you've gotten from a guy in a long time!" I exclaimed. I was truly happy for her.

"Yeah, now I'm just debating on when to call him," she shrugged, calming down a bit.

"Well, why don't you call him now?" I offered.

"Isn't that a little soon? I mean, I just saw him a half an hour ago."

"No, no it's fine! Go do it!" I urged.

"Okie dokie!" she squealed and skipped to the bathroom.

Megan always liked to talk on the phone while she went poop. Her big shits gave her confidence.

I could hear her dial in the bathroom from my room. The walls were really thin in my place.

"Hello, Pete?" she chirped into the receiver.

_Plop._

"Yeah, it's Megan. The girl who wrecked on your street a little while ago."

_Plop._

"Yeah, I thought it would be a little too soon to call, but I couldn't help myself!"

_Squirty squirt plop._

Suddenly, my phone vibrated. I was receiving a text from Megan! I was amazed at how good of a multi-tasker she was.

_He totez wantz me 2 go c a moo-v wit him on friday._

I quickly responded.

_Mos def! He is deff n luv wit u gurl. I kno it._

Only a millisecond later, I felt my phone vibrate again. Damn, she was quick! I looked down at my phone, and realized that it wasn't my biffle Meggy Megs, but it was Brendon! My Brendon!

I stared at his name as it flashed on the screen. My heart pounded. My head throbbed. I was getting cold sweats. I thought that I was about to succumb to a panic attack, but I didn't. I contemplated whether I should open it or not. How long had it been since I received the text message? Megan was still in the restroom, so five seconds or an hour and a half could have passed for all I knew.

Finally, with all the strength I had in my body, I jammed my thumb on the open button.

_Hey_

It was so amazing that he wanted to talk to me, but I really had no idea what to say back. This text made me think that he genuinely cared about me; I felt really good.

_Hey bden! Looooooooooooooooong tym no c_

As I waited for him to text back, Megan reentered my room (along with a massive wave of shit scent).

"So when are you going to see the movie on Friday?" I asked her. I decided not to bring up Brendy Bren for the time being, even though I was bffs with him again.

"Eh, I don't know. I told him I can't drive my car because it has a scratch in it, so he's going to pick me up after band practice!" she screamed; she was ecstatic.

"Get him to write a song about you! That would be totally awesome!" I told her.

I got a text back from Bwenny Bwenny Bun Buns.

_I know. Maybe we can talk about it later. I got some coloring books and im in town. Do you want to color later?_

I was so excited! I ran my thumbs across my keyboard and replied:

_of course! Bwendon wikes 2 cuwwur!_

Within no time, he planned to come over to my place on Friday while Pete and Megan were out on their date. I wanted to have the place to myself. Bwedniesnugglez was back in my life again, and I couldn't be happier!


	2. Chapter 2

MEGAN'S P.O.V.

This is the day I have been waiting for. Friday night, 6 pm, Pete and I's first date.

We arrive at the movies promptly on time. Pete pulls into a parking spot right by the entrance of the movie theater. He smiled at me before opening his door and getting out. I started to do the same.

"No. Sit down, let me get the door for you!" He said. He went around my passenger's side door and kindly opened it for me.

"Such a gentleman!" I giggled. As I slowly began to step out of Pete' orange 2006 Lamborghini Roadster, an unexpected toot escaped from my anus. It wasn't terribly loud, more like a high pitched squeak. It was kinda cute actually, like a baby's laughter. But still, I had just farted in the presence of Pete Wentz. Maybe he didn't hear it.

"Did you just fart?" He asked.

"No!"

He glared at me.

"Okay, yes."

"It was actually kinda cute," he said, laughing. He looked into my eyes and smiled at me, letting out a fart that sounded like the groan of a gorilla as it attacked its prey. We both began to laugh at our inappropriate flatulence.

We linked arms, walking into the theater. We both decided to see a special showing of _The Nightmare Before Christmas_, Pete's favorite movie. Pete bought a large popcorn and a large Dr. Pepper, and we made our way to the theater and found our seats.

"I am so excited, Pete. I have never seen this movie before," I said to him.

"I think you'll really enjoy it."

The lights went down, and the movie started. Anytime I got scared, Pete let me squeeze his hand as hard as I wanted.

"I'm really happy you're here," Pete whispered.

"I'm happy you're here too," I whispered back happily. I turned back to the screen. _Tim Burton has awesome graphics, _I thought, as a life-like zombie seemed to be popping out of the screen.

"Look at that zombie. Doesn't it look real?" I said, turning to Pete.

"This wasn't in the original movie. It must be a new development," He told me.

I looked back at the screen, watching intensely as the zombie on the screen stumbled towards another character on the screen and began biting his arm off.

"This is awfully violent for a kid's movie," I said.

"Yeah, this version is very dramatic," Pete responded.

At that moment, the entire theater erupted into screams of terror. People were scrambling to get to the exits, nearly trampling each other to get out of the theater.

"These people need to calm down. It is just a movie," I scoffed.

"Megan, I don't think this is part of the movie, babe," Pete exclaimed. "That isn't a character in the movie. That man is actually biting his arm off!"

"Oh." I began screaming frantically, flailing my arms and trying to run for my life. Pete grabbed my arm.

"Stay calm! We have to stay calm, okay?" He told me. "Now let's get out of here."

We began to hurry down the aisles towards the emergency exit. The large crowd of frantic idiots were pushing and shoving each other, blocking the exits.

"What do we do, Pete? There is no way out!" I cried.

"Just stay calm..."

"Hey everybody! It's that one guy from that one zombie show!" Someone shouted. In unison, the crowd turned to look at this man.

Rick Grimes stood in front of the movie screen, with an assault rifle slung over his shoulder.

"How did you get here so fast, man?" Another person said.

He didn't respond. He simply pulled his rifle forward, aimed it at the man who was now gnawing on another man's arm, and shot him in the head. Without a second of remorse, he shot the one- armed man in the head. Just as quickly as he had shown up, he was gone.

Everyone poured out of the exits. Pete and I followed closely. The cold, winter air was a relieving feeling as Pete and I began to sprint back to his car. Pete started the car, and sped out of the parking lot.

"What the hell just happened?" I asked Pete.

"I-I don't know," He answered. "We need to go somewhere safe."

"My house?" I suggested.

"No, you're house is too close to here. Somewhere farther away, preferably with a second floor."

"Peytone's apartment is on the third floor of the building. Her place has to be safe."

Without another word, Pete hit the gas, and we were quickly making our way to Peytone's apartment.

The car ride there was intense. All I could do was worry and wonder what the hell happened back at the movie theater. A man had torn another man's limb off. _Was he...a zombie? _I thought. I quickly tried to focus my attention on something else.

"So Pete...nice weather we're having, huh?" I said, trying to break the tension in the car. He said nothing.

Pete whipped the car into a parking spot. We jumped out of the car and sprinted up the steps to Peytone's apartment. Pete began to bang on the door.

"Peytone! Open up! It's me!" I shouted.

The door flew open. Inside her apartment, the news was on the television, telling the breaking story about the crazy man at the movie theater. Peytone, Cori, Jessi and Kayleigh and a mysterious guy were crowded around the television, soaking in the information.

"Something terrible is happening," Pete said seriously.

"Oh my god," I exclaimed excitedly, "Is that Brendon Urie?"

PEYTONE'S P.O.V.

Brendon told me he was going to swing by around 6:30. As the 6:00 rolled around, I rushed to take a shower, straighten my hair, and put on loads of eyeliner. The eyeliner really brought out the dark color of my eyes. It made them look like a mystery. I wanted Bwenny Bear to gaze into the mystery of my eyes after not seeing me for two years. _Will he see what he's missed when he looks into them? _I pondered.

By the time 6:30 came, I was ready. I was dressed in my all black outfit; my favorite color. I wandered around the house, getting all of my art supplies ready. Periodically, I went back to the bathroom mirror to check and see if my make up was still in tact. When the clock struck 6:45, I had absolutely nothing else better to do than to wait. I then realized that I had forgotten to do my warm-up exercise.

Before I used to meet Brenny Wenny when we were friends, I would play _Last Resort_ by Papa Roach and thrash around crazily, as if I was in the mist of a giant mosh pit. This prepared me to face him and his beauty.

I turned my stereo onto full blast, and I let the song rush through the speakers. It sounded so angry and maniacal; it was my favorite sound. I jumped on the couch, shoving all of my force onto it when I landed. I'm pretty sure I broke a spring in there or something. I ran into the kitchen, took a plate out of a cabinet, and smashed it on the ground.

"WAHHHHH MOTHER FUCKER!" I screamed as loud as I could.

Just when I thought all my energy was gone, I heard a faint knock at the door. It took a lot of concentration to make it out over the loud music that was playing. I froze. I let the music play for another minute as I shook in embarrassment. Did my little ball of Brun Brun just hear my warm-up exercise?

I rushed to turn off the the stereo. I picked some pieces of the plate off of the ground and then scrambled to the door.

Brendon Urie was on the other side, holding a tub of markers and some poster board.

"Hey, Brendon," I said, my breath still heavy.

"Seems like you've already gotten the party started," he grinned, inviting himself in.

He put his art supplies on the floor and sat on my couch. It was very awkward. I guessed not seeing somebody for two years could do that kind of thing to you...

"This is weird," I pointed out the obvious.

"Yes, I know," he responded, not looking at me.

"Well, I haven't talked to you for two years. That might be the problem," I told him.

"Don't blame that on me," he ordered.

"What? But it was all your fault! You became famous and stopped talking to me! I don't understand!" I screeched.

"Wh-whatever. It's still not my fault," he fended for himself.

"You know what, Bwenny? I don't even care how we stopped talking. I'm just glad you're here again!" I said, batting my eyes.

"Me too. Now let's color," he grinned.

We had a coloring fiasco. We rolled around, trying to pick up markers that we had scattered all over the floor. After every centimeter of the poster boards and paper were covered, we ended up wrestling. It was really fun, but I think it went to far when I bit his arm. I guess I was relieving the frustration that I had towards him.

He didn't take it that way.

"Ohhh baby yeah make me scream 'icht strasse schnauz lager werden wass' all night long!" he screamed.

"Wait? You want to make you scream in German all night long? We haven't done that in years. I don't feel comfortable doing that now," I told him.

"How about we have sex with the lights on and stare at each other without blinking? Remember when we did that once? It was so much fun!" he nudged me.

"We never did that..." I had no recollection of that at all.

"Oh... uh... yeah... Anyways, so I guess we're not having sex then?" he asked.

"That's all you wanted to do, you asshowe!" I screamed.

"No! Nonononono! I'm exactly where you like me, you know! Praying for love in a lap dance, and paying in naivety!"

"What the hell? Naivety? That's a big word. What does it even mean?" I asked, pacing around and pulling at my hair.

"Never mind. But I really did miss you, my little Peytone-Puff!" he ran to me and squeezed my cheeks until I giggled.

Right when he was about to kiss me and be all sentimental, I heard noises outside my window. I couldn't really describe it if I wanted to; all I could say was that it sounded like sheer terror!

I heard frantic knocks at my door.

"Peytone! It's Kayleigh and Jessi and Cori! Open up! Please! Please! For god's sake open up! Please! Please! Oh Jesus Christ! Oh my god! Ah! Oh jeez! Wah! Ah! Oh please! Please!"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP I'M OPENING THE GODDAMN DOOR!" I yelled at the top of my lungs.

I opened the door, and what I saw completely blew my mind. Cori, Jessi, and Kayleigh were bloody as hell. Jessi looked completely mangled! Cori's eyebrows were gone. They weren't burned off or anything. They just, weren't there!

My friends rushed in, all fighting to get in at once. It was very hectic.

"Haven't you people ever heard of closing the goddamn door?" Brendon yelled.

Brendon was already watching the news. Figures appeared on my television screen that appeared to be zombies. They were wreaking havoc across the streets of Chicago, biting into anybody uninfected. I squealed and ran around the apartment, flailing my arms and flaring my nose.

"Hey, Peytone, one of your friends is like, dying over here. And the other has no eyebrows," Brendon called to me.

"Oh. Right," I said, stopping what I was doing.

I went to my first aid kit, got a shit ton of bandages and peroxide, and, slowly but surely, I was able to clear up and disinfect all of Jessi's wounds. I left Jessi to lay down on the floor, because I didn't want her getting my bedsheets all bloody.

"Brendon! Can I see your markers please?" I called out him.

"Yeah sure," he said, handing me the tub.

I sorted through them, picking out all of the shades of brown, black, and yellow.

"Kayleigh, I need an opinion," I told her.

"Okay," she responded, coming to sit next to me.

"Which of these colors would be best for Cori's eyebrows?" I asked.

"Hm... which one matches her root hair color best?" she responded with a question.

We eventually agreed to do a mixture of two browns, and we drew eyebrows on Cori. She looked good as new. Except she looked as if she was surprised all the time.

"Cori! You look fabulous!" Kayleigh commented.

"Yeah. Ghetto fabulous," I added.

Cori seemed surprised at my remark.

I heard another knock on the door. "Peytone! Open up! It's me!" I heard from the other end.

Ah, it was Megan! I was so happy she was safe! After she and Pete were safely in my apartment, I had to decide what to do next.


End file.
